


Godfather

by ScarletteStar1



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Babies, Blood, Breastfeeding, F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform, baby snatcher rumple, child birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24529627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1
Summary: Once upon a time, they called him the baby snatcher, but that really isn't the whole story.Call it one of his peculiarities, but Rumplestiltskin has always had a thing for babies.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	Godfather

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for visiting me and for reading this. . . I truly appreciate you being here and connecting with me. this is just a little Rumbelle Drabble I dreamed up to escape reality today...

Call it one of his peculiarities, but he always had a thing for babies.

Many moons ago, they called him baby snatcher. People accused him of doing all manner of sordid things to the innocents. 

But as is typical with what they say and the legends they spin, none of it was true. 

Drawn to thin wails and sorrowful cries in the middle of the night, Rumplestiltskin comforted and held the babies near his own heart until they were quiet. In the dark, his eyes sparkled down upon them and they would reach their jerky and uncoordinated limbs to pull at his nose or hair.

Their unconditional fondness made him giggle.

Many times, he'd simply sit with baby by the fire while the parents slumbered.

Sometimes, with a particularly restless or colicky babe, he would take it from its cradle and cottage walk with it in his arms through the forest. Most often, drunken parents slept, or were out working late into the night, having left the infant all alone in their cot. But every so often, a doting mother of father woke and noticed their child’s absence, raced out of their home screaming in the night that their baby had been stolen.

Many times, he returned the baby, cooing or sound asleep, after playing and cuddling it. He never hesitated to return a tot if it was chubby and well cared for, especially if there was a distraught parent crying for it. With a little kiss on his or her forehead, he handed the child back and the parent inevitably shuddered with a combination of fright and relief.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you, Dark One!” They would sigh and cling to their fleshy parcel.

But other times, he took the child someplace else.

“Some people do not deserve such a pretty baby,” he said once to a scrawny mite who was not crying at all. The baby’s muteness was more concerning than if it had been squalling. “There now, little one,” he whispered and brought the bundle into a barn where a cow had recently been milked. With a wave of his hand, he procured a perfectly warm bottle of rich, creamy milk. He sat on the stool, leaned against the warm beast and fed the baby who promptly fell asleep in his arms after her decadent meal.

Rumplestiltskin inhaled the sleepy, milky breath of the infant and held her close. Something about her tugged at his onyx heart. Her translucent eyelids fluttered in an unknown dream as she slept and when her brow furrowed in what looked like fear, he thought he would cry for the first time in decades. Nuzzling her silky brow, he knew there was something special about this baby, something. . . “Magical,” he murmured and she opened her eyes and gazed up at him in silent communion. “We’ll bring you someplace safe, Dearie. Someplace special.”

The Blue Fairy’s agreement with Rumplestiltskin was tense but firm. He did not call upon her often, but when he did, it was with purpose.

“You’ll find her kindness and warmth?” He asked, still clutching the swaddled bundle.

“Of course,” Blue answered.

“She’s needing nourishment. She’s not been fed well. You will see she’s given good milk? And plenty of sweets?”

At this, Blue could not help but smile. “The changling will be well cared for, Rumplestiltskin. You can count on it. Are you ready?”

With a final cuddle of the babe, he reluctantly surrendered her to the sparkling fairy. The baby gurgled, finally making a noise that sounded normal and appropriate, happy even. It made him smile, even as it broke his heart. In another heartbeat, the baby and Blue were gone.

Rumple sighed as he trudged back through the forest. He contemplated transporting himself to his castle, but it seemed a walk would do him good.

The sharp cry caught him quite off guard.

A newborn, mingled with that of a maiden. His ears twitched and he hastened to the scene.

The maid couldn’t have given birth but a day ago. She was still stained in her own blood and in the corner of her cottage, her placenta lay in a clump with a coil of umbilical cord. She huddled in her bed, clutching her baby, barely clothed in rags, barely conscious, and weeping with the last of the breath her body contained.

“What have we here?” He asked. She did not answer. Speaking seemed to be too much effort. He approached the bed and her dazzlingly blue eyes widened with fear. She clung closer to her child.

“Please,” she whispered raggedly. “Please don’t take him. I know who you are! Please don’t steal my baby!”

“Now now,” Rumplestiltskin said with a flourish of his hand. “My reputation may precede me, but I am not in the business of stealing babies, Dearie. You, however look much in need of some attention, and your babe looks as though he is wanting for a feed. Tell me, have you been able to nurse him?”

The girl shook her head and tears streamed down her cheeks in earnest. The wailing newborn clawed at his mama’s chest, his mouth seemingly searching for her breast.

“You must feed him, Dearie,” Rumplestiltskin said as gently as he could manage. He put a hand on the baby’s head and stroked him delicately. The child seemed to be in good health other than for his raging hunger. Mother on the other hand. . .

“I can’t,” the girl muttered and her eyes closed as if she were about to fade from this life.

“Oh, I think you can,” the Dark One sighed and put his hand on her belly. He felt the internal wounds pulsating through her flesh. Peeling back the covers, he saw the pool of blood in which the maiden lay. “What’s your name, girl?”

“Beh. . . Belle,” she stuttered.

“Alright then Belle, stay with me. Hold on to your son now, that’s it. He’s a lusty lad, isn’t he? I’m going to help you. It won’t hurt, there might just be a little pressure,” he waved his hand and in a puff of crimson smoke, he made the puddle of blood and the searing internal injuries vanish from Belle’s body. Almost instantly, Belle regained full consciousness. She smiled.

“Good, kind, Sir!” She exclaimed and looked from Rumplestiltskin to her baby in wonder.

“Don’t thank me quite yet, Dearie,” he said. “We’ve got to get this babe to your breast before he burns down a village in angry hunger.”

Belle looked up at Rumple with confusion and shame. She shook her head and said, “I don’t even know how.”

“Come now,” he said and helped prop her up with some straw pallets. He showed her how to position the baby and how to offer him her plump, pink nipple. The baby latched eagerly and greedily began suckling. “See that? There he goes. Does he have a name?”

“I believe I’ll call him Gideon.”

“A good, strong name. After his father?”

“No. His father is gone. Dead. We are quite alone.” Belle gazed down upon the peaceful face of her nursing son and smiled sadly. “I don’t even know what I would have done had you not happened by.”

Rumplestiltskin waved his fingers and blinked his eyes in pleasure. “Think nothing of it,” he crooned.

For a while, the two adults quietly watched Gideon happily feed. Then Rumple helped Belle switch him to the other breast. When the baby finally rolled off the nipple and started to sleep with his mouth wide open, in a milk drunk stupor, Belle turned to the Dark One with a pale expression. “You’ll take him now then?”

“What?”

“I told you. I know who you are, and I know you steal the babies. I figured that is what you came here for.”

“No,” Rumple shook his head. He was suddenly tired and wished he could lay in the dingy straw with Belle and Gideon. “I could never take a boy who is so clearly loved from his mother.”

“Thank you,” Belle whispered and reached for his hand. The warmth of her touch flowed through him. 

“Have you anyone here to care for you? For you and your boy?”

Belle shook her head.

“Well, you do now,” Rumplestiltskin said.

“Why?” Belle wondered. “Why would you do this for us?”

“Let’s just say I’ve always had a thing for babies,” he said, and with a wave of his hand, he transported them back to his castle where he cared for Belle with loving tenderness and raised Gideon with kind guidance as if he were his very own.


End file.
